


Trapped Inside This Snow Globe (It only looks perfect from the outside)

by Saral_Hylor



Category: The Losers (Comic)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Christmas, Gift Fic, Grief/Mourning, I angsted all over Christmas, I'm not sorry, Jensen Angst, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Post Comics, it doesn't get better, past Cougar/Jensen relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saral_Hylor/pseuds/Saral_Hylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"It was snowing, and the scene outside of the window was so perfect. Christmas greeting card perfect. He wondered briefly when his life had become a snow globe. He felt as though it was in a perpetual state of shook up. But it wasn’t snow that swirled around him. It was bullets and blood. Fire and smoke. Cougar’s tired smile when he gave up, and that echoing word ‘motherfucker’ that he knew was uttered in his own voice, but it had never sounded more foreign."</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>For <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/jujitsuelf/pseuds/jujitsuelf">jujitsuelf</a>. Merry Christmas beautiful!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped Inside This Snow Globe (It only looks perfect from the outside)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jujitsuelf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujitsuelf/gifts).



> Thanks to [quandong_crumble](http://archiveofourown.org/users/quandong_crumble/pseuds/quandong_crumble) for the beta work and hand holding.
> 
>  
> 
> A little bit of background, jujitsuelf, 3white_mage3 and I decided to write and gift each other fics for Xmas, since we live in various (opposite) corners of the world, virtual gifts made sense. They had to be between 100-3000 words long, and could be prompted or not. I was given free rein over what I wrote, and I hope they don't regret that decision.
> 
>  
> 
> This is for [jujitsuelf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jujitsuelf/pseuds/jujitsuelf) because awesome people deserve fic presents on Christmas.  
> This is also as a huge thanks and love you to jujitsuelf. Thanks for being my weird internet friend and all the emails, suppport and awesome conversations!  
> Thanks for being my friend, and here's to more emails, fics and fangirling in the future!

It was snowing, the ground dusted white, cutting the perfect Christmas scene outside of the living room window. There was the snowman that Beth, Ashley and Jasmine had built the day before, done up in one of Pooch’s old scarves and hats. The decorative lights that adorned every house along the street were compensation for the stars that wouldn’t even have been visible had the sky not been overcast. Street lights, traffic lights, and everyone’s need to fight off the dark around their houses, drowned out the stars.

Jensen missed the stars. He missed the dark. He missed the open spaces that had been oftentimes dangerous while they were on missions. He missed being on mission, the same way he’d missed being home while he was on mission. He missed his team, and that naivety that he’d had, even though he knew what they did, and that they risked their lives everyday, he’d always believed that they were the good guys and that they’d make it home again every time.

But they hadn’t made it home, not all of them, and even though he was surrounded by Pooch’s family, and his own, his life had never felt so empty. It was the first Christmas since New Jerusalem. The loss - Cougar - it stabbed harder even than it had immediately after. It twisted and wrenched at his heart, and it wouldn’t be satisfied until it had torn his heart from his chest and left him bleeding out all over the floor.

It kept him up at night, the hollow feeling beneath his ribs, the ever-present ache that reminded him continuously that even when he was surround by people, he was alone.

It was what had driven him from the room he shared with Jess and Beth and out into the living room. That ache, and the memories of the previous Christmas, when he’d been in Egypt, they all had, and while he was far away from what little he had in the way of family, he’d been with his team, and things had been bearable. Cougar had been there, and they’d gotten drunk and sang Christmas carols badly with Pooch and Roque, that had gotten progressively more and more rude. There hadn’t been snow that year, which was a change from all the New Hampshire Christmases he’d had growing up. He’d missed Beth and Jess, and the snow, but he’d had Cougar there. And now he didn’t.

It was too early, would still be dark outside if not for the kilowatts of electricity coursing through globe filaments. It’d be a while before the rest of the house woke up, and part of him wanted to make the most of it. Alone, he didn’t have to pretend that everything was okay. Didn’t have to smile and be strong so that Beth wouldn’t know that he was falling apart inside. He felt like an unstable chemical reaction, any moment he’d explode. Or implode. Or burn up. Or simply fizzle out in an unsuccessful mess. The stabilising agent, what kept him together, was missing. He could be that volatile mess when he was alone. Around other people, he had to pretend he was okay. He’d have to sit at the table and eat Christmas dinner like a normal human being. Had to smile and sing carols and unwrap the presents that Beth had gotten him.

But alone, alone it was even more obvious how huge a part of him was missing. That part of him, his stabilising agent, had detonated a nuke in the pipe room in New Jerusalem. He’d been off kilter ever since, and he wasn’t sure how to balance himself out again. He missed Cougar, missed those moments shared when they were alone, missed him so much that it hurt simply to breathe.

The stairs squeaked behind him, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. The kitchen light flicked on, and he heard the coffee machine start up. He wanted to seek out whoever it was, just for human contact, but at the same time he wanted them to go away just so he wouldn’t have to pretend. He’d been faking it for so long he wasn’t even sure how to show what he was actually feeling.

“Hey.”

Jess’ voice came from his left, a mug of coffee appearing in his peripheral vision. He couldn’t turn to face her, but he took the coffee when it was held in front of him. She didn’t touch him, and he was grateful for that. The coffee smelt strongly of whiskey, and despite it still being before dawn, Jensen was rather grateful of the way his sister’s mind worked. Maybe if he could stay in a permanent state of being drunk, everything would stop hurting so much.

“Should be a good day, don’t you think?” Jess stood close, but didn’t touch, staring out the window with him.

He couldn’t respond, didn’t know how to respond. It was snowing, and the scene outside of the window was so perfect. Christmas greeting card perfect. He wondered briefly when his life had become a snow globe. He felt as though it was in a perpetual state of shook up. But it wasn’t snow that swirled around him. It was bullets and blood. Fire and smoke. Cougar’s tired smile when he gave up, and that echoing word ‘motherfucker’ that he knew was uttered in his own voice, but it had never sounded more foreign.

That ache inside welled up, and he had to scull the coffee, tasting the whiskey, just to stop the strangled noise that was trying to claw its way out of his throat.

“Jake? I,” Jess’ voice faltered, and he could hear a fraction of his pain reflecting back from her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t make this better. It was so easy when you were a kid. I could give you a hug, a Band-Aid, or kiss it better, and it worked. But I can’t even touch this pain. I can’t take it away from you. Fuck, I wish I could, Jakey, I really do. I just don’t know how. I wish I could make you forget, but he deserves to be remembered. We all miss him. Beth too. I just, I hate seeing you like this.”

The coffee mug was shaking in his hands, or his hands were shaking around the mug. He wasn’t sure anymore. Half the time he felt sure that he’d died and Cougar had lived, because surely only hell could hurt that much. He could hear the pain in Jess’ voice and knew that it was his fault. She shouldn’t be hurting. It was Christmas. The time to be happy, ‘twas the season to be jolly after all.

Tightening his hands around the mug, to stop the shaking, he drew a breath, and forced the smile onto his face, and finally turned to face her. Fake it ‘til you make it. He’d done that plenty of times before. “I’m okay, Jessie. Don’t be sad. It’s Christmas.”


End file.
